Diary of a Dream
by kryscrossed
Summary: Written for the Battery Park Fic Contest. It's the anniversery of her parent's death, and Rogue is at a loss for how to deal with it. With an old journal, she finds hope for her future.


Rogue climbed up to the roof, relieved to find it empty for once. The roof had become one of her favorite places to go to be alone, but she'd discovered she wasn't the only one to feel that way. She moved to the very corner of the roof, which was blocked off from view by a brick structure of some sort. Rogue didn't know what it was for, but it provided a closed off corner, and for that she appreciated it.

She slid down the wall with her back against the bricks, and opened the small leather bound journal she had brought up with her. Running her fingers lovingly across the cover, Rogue closed her eyes for a moment, seeing them in her minds eye. Her parents. It was exactly a year to the day they had died. Rogue drew in a shaky breath, opening her eyes once again. She opened the book, her eyes finding the written words on the first page.

"To my darling daughter, Sierra. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think God for the gift he gave your mother and I when he gave us you. I find myself wondering if we deserve such a gem, and the answer is no. We don't deserve you, but we love you more than life itself.

Today is your birthday, and I can hardly believe you're another year older. I remember when you were just a little girl, with the biggest blue eyes I'd ever seen. I miss those days, but at the same time I'm so proud of you, and the beautiful young lady you've become.

Don't let anybody ever tell you that you can't do something, Sierra. Believe in yourself, and in what you can accomplish. Don't let anyone steal your dream. It's your dream, not theirs.

I hope you fill these pages with your words. Your hopes, your dreams, your love. Fill them with your thoughts, your worries and your desires. Let this journal be a confidante when times are tough, and a companion when times are good. And when you write in it, remember me, and know that you have all my love;

For now and forever more,

Charles Cooper"

A drop fell, staining the page, and Rogue gasped, looking up to see if it was raining. It took her a moment to realize the droplet wasn't rain at all, but her own tear. She quickly used the edge of her skirt to blot at the stain, hoping it wouldn't smudge her father's careful lettering. Easing the book closed again, Rogue wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks, sniffling a little.

Once again, she felt a feeling of relief that she was alone on the roof. Rogue didn't mind crying when she was alone, but she hated having people see her cry. It felt like a weakness to her, and generally people felt the need to "fix" whatever the problem was. But the truth was, there was no "fix". Nothing would bring her parents back.

Rogue wiped her eyes one last time, before opening the book again, scanning over the first few entries. She had written in it quite faithfully at first, when her parents were still alive, and she was still living a charmed and naïve lifestyle. And then the entries suddenly stopped. She glanced at the date of the final entry. It was the day before their death. She had written five pages worth, talking about the day she had spent with her family, and the plans they had for the weekend. Plans that had never come to life.

She had intended to write in the journal again that day, but as she pressed the pen to the page, all she was able to write was the date. What did one say about the death of their parents. How did she explain why she'd gone a whole year without writing. Rogue sighed, lying the pen in the book, and closing it, laying it to the side.

She jumped at the sound of heavy boots on the fire escape, and closed her eyes, hoping whoever it was wasn't planning on staying long.

"Rogue?"

Rogue glanced up surprised to hear his voice, "Mush? Is that you?" She couldn't see him from where she was sitting, but could hear his steps moving closer Rogue wiped at her eyes again, hoping they weren't red from crying, and offered him a small smile when he came to stand in front of her, "How'd you know I was up here?"

"I asked some of the girls downstairs. Apparently, they know everything," Mush hesitated, his hands in his pockets, "Mind if I sit?"

Rogue nodded, moving over to create some room for him. He lowered himself to the ground next to her, leaning back against the wall.

"Are you okay?" He asked, after a moments silence.

Rogue opened her mouth to respond, ready to tell him that she was fine, but was unable to force any words past the lump in her throat. She swallowed, shaking her head, as tears filled her eyes once again. "No," she choked out honestly, desperately pleading with herself to keep the tears from falling. They ignored her plea, and streamed unbidden down her cheeks.

Mush remained silent, unable to find the words of comfort he knew he should be providing. He knew what this date was, and what it meant to her. Silently, he slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him in an embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, wishing he could think of something better to say.

Rogue leaned into him, burying her face in his shoulder, a halfhearted attempt to hide her tears, even though they immediately soaked through his shirt. She didn't know how long they stayed like that, but when she finally pulled away, her eyes were dry again. "I'm sorry," she whispered, embarrassed that she had just cried all over him, "I got your shirt wet."

"It's been wet before," he replied, turning so he could look her in the eyes, he took her chin in his hand, gently lifting it so she was returning his gaze, he used his thumb to wipe at the tearstains on her cheeks, "You're allowed to cry, you know."

Rogue lowered her eyes for a moment, before looking back up at him, "Am I?" She asked quietly, "I feel like I have to always be the happy one. Be the one that other people can talk to, and tell their problems too. Not the other way around." She paused for a moment, shaking her head a bit, "I know that's silly."

Mush leaned forward, kissing her forehead, "It's not silly. But it's not wrong to cry, either. It hurts. I understand that. And anybody who doesn't understand doesn't deserve to have you as a friend."

Rogue smiled up at him, "I think you're biased."

Mush winked, "Maybe I am."

They sat together for another hour, Rogue telling Mush stories about her family, and the way they used to be. He had left her as dusk settled, needing to get back to his own lodging house, but promising to see her the next day.

Rogue made her way into the bunk room, ignoring the gossiping girls for once, and lying in her bunk, her journal opened once again, to the page that held only a date.

"Dear Diary,

It's been a whole year since the last time I've even looked upon your pages. Then you were filled with promises of the future. But during this past year, the only thing you've represented has been sorrows of the past.

I lost Mother and Father to a fire, a year ago today. At first the pain was so much I could barely breathe. It was as if there was something tied around my chest, keeping the air, and life itself, out.

Slowly that binding has loosened itself, and through my friends, I've learned to live again. To love again. There's still a hole in my heart, where Mother and Father used to reside, but I fill it with my memories, and it hurts a little less every day.

Father told me to believe in my dreams. And for the last year, I've put my dreams on hold, as I've grieved my loss. But I offer a promise now. I will never forget my dreams again. I will live in them, and they will live in me. Now, and forevermore.

Sierra Elizabeth Cooper"


End file.
